words circles

I have no need for words
I have no idea what they are
I tell them that they're
images
and they chase me down the highways
to refuse their

meanings, they insist they are
a refuge from americanisation
western academicism
the feminist tradition
words

need me, not even
Noam Chomsky can help over
literal, literally
something more physical
I
challenge

them with sound "you are
just a manifestation of
rhythm and meter a fluctuation
of my breath"
they wind
me
up

with reasons why I
am so aliterary. And when
my stomachs fed and
I'm reading the television
another city
bombed

by Einstein's appalling legacy
Now humour weighs our
anxious position
anchored by co-ordinate
peculiar
we'

ve lethargy to blame
for reasoned contradiction
obstinate and unwilling
for a wordless world
of dancing men
inconclusive
even when
knowing
then

CRESCENT YOU MUST NOT WRITE POETRY LIKE THIS

THE ENDS OF SCIENCE